


baby, i've got a sinking feeling.

by Quinton_Hawk



Series: Quin's Cinderella Phenomenon addiction [9]
Category: Cinderella Phenomenon (Visual Novel)
Genre: Fritzgerald Aiden Leverton's Route Spoilers, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Missing Scene, My take on the night Lucette is cursed from Fritz's perspective, The night that Lucette gets cursed, Very short Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:28:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24603142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinton_Hawk/pseuds/Quinton_Hawk
Summary: He wasn’t the type to be an insomniac.Overthinking or random paranoia threw a hammer to those plans occasionally, but…He really wasn’t the type.
Relationships: Lucette Riella Britton/Fritzgerald Aiden Leverton
Series: Quin's Cinderella Phenomenon addiction [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610977
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	baby, i've got a sinking feeling.

Fritz didn’t like nights like this. They didn’t happen often, but when they did, they would plague him for far longer than they lasted.

He wasn’t the type to be an insomniac. Overthinking or random paranoia threw a hammer to those plans occasionally, but… He really wasn’t the type.

He considered these things to be nothing more than the side effects of being human.

So, as he paces, he also reasons.

He has no reason to be anxious, no reason to ruminate. Especially so, considering he could pinpoint no reason at all for his lack of sleep; not even an outlandish one that could be chalked up to nightmares and illusions.

It reminded him of his childhood at times. Nights he’d spend awash in rain, forgetting.

He turns to the window, stopping his pacing across the kitchen tiles to stand in the glow of moonbeams flooding through the panes.

The sky is calm tonight. If Fritz were a more superstitious man, he would use that as logic to defend against the notion that something was amiss. Something was _always_ amiss on nights like these, but…

There is a difference between correlation and causation. Fritz doesn’t care to blur those lines, not when he’s still young.

If he was - in fact - still young, that is. Young people didn’t often have such large gaps in their own memory, after all.

Fritz has learned that there are things you can forget without people noticing. Small, inconsequential things that no one but yourself will miss. Misplacing house keys, forgetting a meeting… not being quite sure why he had asked his father to wake him at a certain hour, but leaving for the palace anyway.

_Surely, there was nothing amiss._

He continues to pace, hyper-focused yet sluggish.

How much does he forget, that others would not miss?

…It could be a hand dealt to the fact that he was young when she fell ill, but could it be his memories of her were so foggy because of this?

He brushes the thought aside. Enough was on his mind as it was, without thinking of the faded painting on his father’s office wall.

Strangest of all these things perhaps, was the fact that nights such as these had ceased completely recently. Time had flown by with nothing but deep dreamless sleep through the night, being awakened by sunshine through his curtains.

Such a blessing should not leave him with unease. He lifts his gaze to the moon, bright and full at this time of the month, seas at the shores of Angielle at full tide. All of the scene was serene, except himself.

“Fritzgerald. What are you doing up at this hour?”

Fritz doesn’t jump or swivel about to face his father, his tired body fighting against his waking mind and protesting the movement.

“Ah, nothing. I couldn’t sleep, and I already have to be at the palace early tomorrow since you wish for me to run some errands.” He casts a tired smile.

Though he was suddenly feeling much more tired than before, what he said was true. If he were to go back to sleep now, he would only feel more exhausted at only getting a few hours.

Alcaster looks at him strangely for a few moments, furrowing his brow in thought. “Very well. Don’t let it affect your work.”

At the mention of his job, Fritz’s stomach drops in an unsettling way. He can’t pinpoint this feeling, but… if he didn’t know better, he would say that the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. He rubs one of his hands over the area, smoothing down the tingling feeling across his scalp.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

…Perhaps something _was_ amiss, after all.

\-------


End file.
